How Lucky That You Dropped In
by misskaterinab
Summary: Blaine gets stranded in a blizzard and ends up on a stranger's doorstep. Rated M for ut-smay.
1. Chapter 1

About ten miles outside the city limits of Lima, Ohio, Blaine turned off the radio. The sound of the music and the urge to sing along with every song were affecting his concentration. The visibility was next to nil. He had viewed the weather report before he set off on the road for home; he knew he'd be cutting it close on his drive from the upper peninsula of Michigan, but apparently the storm he was trying to beat was faster than he was. He inched along the snow-covered roadway at hardly more than an idle, his nose practically touching the windshield in front of him in an attempt to see just that little bit farther, but nothing helped.

Blaine's iPhone went off loudly with the sound of his mother's ringtone. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting that he was supposed to be at his parents' house long before then, and he sighed, steeling himself for the scolding he was surely about to get from Bethany Anderson.

"Hey, Mom."

"No, I'm not in Westerville yet. I think I just passed Lima."

"No, I can barely see – I can't hurry."

"Just go ahead and serve dinner, Mom. I'll grab some leftovers when I get in."

"Mom, I'm SORRY – I can't help the weather."

"Yes, Mom, I know I should've left earlier but – "

Blaine was cut off by his phone shutting down. He had remembered to pack his wall charger for the journey, but his car charger had disappeared somewhere, and he wasn't able to power up his phone during the drive as a result.

"Shit," Blaine swore, tossing his phone on the seat. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do – he was using his phone as a GPS, and he hadn't taken this particular route home before, so not only was he unable to SEE where he was going, he didn't even KNOW where he was going.

As he was thinking over his options, fate went ahead and forced Blaine's hand by sliding his car into the ditch. Blaine tried every way he could think of to correct his course and keep him on what he thought was still the road, but it was of no use. He was down in the ditch in a pile of snow, and there was no way of getting the car back out on his own.

"FUCK!" he screamed in the car. He shut off the engine and opened the door. The car was somewhat tilted so in order to get out of the car, he had to climb up and out. Blaine was grateful for the tall boots and ski parka he was wearing; he was able to assess his situation without getting too cold too quickly.

Blaine glanced at the back of his car and noted that the exhaust pipe was completely blocked by snow. He sighed heavily, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to clear the pipe enough for it to be safe for him to run the engine and keep warm. He leaned up against the car for a moment, his face in his gloved hands, and stopped to think. A cold gust of wind made him hasten his decision-making.

His only choice was to walk. He figured he would freeze to death whether he stayed there or actively tried to seek help, so he decided to retrace his path. He was pretty sure he drove past a mailbox on the side of the road about a half mile back, so after digging around in the car for all the pieces of outerwear he stored in the back seat and grabbing his phone and backpack, he set off in the direction he had come to find the mailbox he had passed.

The first few steps weren't so bad, but the wind was strong, and the snow that was falling was hard and stung the parts of Blaine's face that his scarf didn't cover. Every few feet that Blaine walked, his foot would slip a little, which made the going slow. Finally, after nearly an hour of walking and almost three quarters of a mile covered, he reached the mailbox on the side of the road that he had seen before.

It was no wonder that even in the middle of a snowstorm, he noticed this mailbox. It was covered in Burberry's signature plaid print. Blaine smiled despite the fact that he felt like his face would crack from the cold when he did; the person who owned that box must surely be an interesting soul. And a fashionable one, at that.

After another nearly ten minutes of slip-walking, Blaine began to wonder if he was off the track. _How far back IS this person's house?_ he thought. Just as he began to lose a little hope, he nearly smacked his face on the side of a garage. Blaine was startled, but not exactly surprised; the visibility was so bad that he could barely see past the nose on his own face.

He kept a hand on the building as he began circling it, looking for a door. He gave a small cry of victory when he slogged through some low, dormant shrubberies and nearly tripped over a cement stoop. Rather than look for a doorbell, Blaine raised his hand and rapped on what he hoped was the door. No response. He knocked again, this time removing his glove so the sound would not be muffled by the fabric, but again received no answer. He ran his fingers over the surface of the building, determining that he was indeed knocking on what appeared to be a door, and hoping that he might find a doorbell.

His now freezing cold digits hit paydirt on the third sweep, but just as he was about to press the button, the door swung open in front of him.

"Who are you, and what in the _world_ are you doing out there in this mess?"

* * *

**A/N: I live in Minnesota, so this whole blizzard/ditch/stranded business is not unfamiliar territory for me. Gotta write what I know, though god knows I've never ended up on anyone's doorstep before :) **

**This story is completely written except for a bit near the end, so I can post regularly. Let me know what you think of this first little bit!**


	2. Chapter 2

"I, uh…" Blaine started, but despite the fact that he was beginning to lose feeling in his extremities and wasn't sure how much longer he could remain upright, he stood there staring at the owner of the house and that _voice…_

There was no denying it: the man that opened the door was attractive beyond Blaine's comprehension. He stood there, hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation of Blaine's presence on his doorstep, but Blaine's verbal skills refused to cooperate. He attempted to speak, but his mouth failed. He managed to form only the words, "God, your _eyes_," while almost drooling.

_Nice first impression Blaine. Way to fucking go._

"While I appreciate what I'm guessing was a compliment, we're letting far too much cold air into my already drafty home. Could you please get to the point of your unexpected visit?"

"I'm so sorry!" Blaine quickly snapped out of whatever speech malfunction he was experiencing and did a one-eighty right into babbling territory. "It's just, I left Michigan too late and I ran into the storm and then I couldn't see and my car slid into a ditch and I couldn't run the heater 'cause it's buried and I remembered seeing your mailbox because who really covers a mailbox in Burberry plaid these days and I thought it was pretty awesome and so I walked up here and almost got lost in the storm and can I please come in and get warm and charge my phone? I promise I'm not an axe murderer – I am far too grossed out by blood and guts to even consider the possibility and my brother just calls me a big puppy dog and would never hurt even a flea, though I suppose if I were a dog, I'd probably scratch at fleas and harm them that way and – "

"Oh good grief, get your butt in here. I already figured you weren't an axe murderer 'cause not a single one of them in any horror movie I've ever seen wears an admittedly fabulous Santa print bowtie, so I'll take my chances."

Blaine blushed a bit and hid his face. He had forgotten he was wearing it – it was a little embarrassing for outsiders to see it, but he hadn't intended for anyone but family to see his clothing choices.

"It's okay. I like it. Now get in here before my house becomes no warmer than outside!"

"Oh!" Blaine exclaimed, and he stepped forward to go inside. His feet, however, were getting numb, and he misjudged his step, stumbling over the threshold and practically falling through the door, almost on top of the gorgeous man.

"Are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I'm just a little cold," Blaine assured him. "I'll be fine in a couple of minutes."

An awkward silence settled upon them as they stood there staring at each other. The man snapped out of it first, saying, "Well, it's getting kind of late. I was actually going to turn in in a few minutes. Maybe you'd like to take a hot shower to help you warm up and then get some sleep yourself?"

Blaine groaned involuntarily. "That sounds incredible right now. Thank you _so_ much. I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this."

The man grinned, sensing he better cut him off before the stranger got tied up in another one of his verbal diarrhea attacks. "I have an idea. Bathroom's at the top of the stairs to your left, second door. First door is the linen closet – grab whatever towels you need out of there before you head in. And give the water a few minutes to warm up before you hop in or you're going to end up screaming like a girl when the water hits you. Believe me, my brother never remembers to let the water run and that's the sound he makes."

Blaine chuckled. "Duly noted."

"And I'll leave something for you to sleep in outside the door while you shower. That bag you have with you doesn't look full enough to contain clothes."

"You're right. Thank you again, so much."

"You're welcome."

Blaine began to bound up the steps, but the man's voice behind him stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey, um, you!"

Blaine spun around. "Yes?"

"Unless you'd like to continue answering to 'hey you,' I should probably know your name."

"Oh! Yeah, that'd be handy, wouldn't it? My name's Blaine."

The man looked up at him from the bottom of the steps and smiled. "Kurt."

Blaine paused for a moment, returned the grin, and continued upstairs.

Kurt was frozen in his place, staring at the top of the staircase where Blaine had disappeared. Despite how cool he had played their entire interaction before, his heart was pounding, and the butterflies in his stomach had reached dangerously high levels.

There were many things Kurt was unsure of, but of one thing he was certain: the man Kurt found on his doorstep this Christmas Eve would have significance in his life… somehow.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt sat on the edge of the couch wringing his hands nervously. That beautiful man… _Blaine_… was just a floor above him in his shower. Wet. And naked. Cue brain explosion. He just couldn't deal.

He got up and strode into the kitchen, eager to find something to occupy his hands and his mind for even just a few moments. He puttered around putting a kettle on the stove for tea. Even if Blaine didn't want any when he finished upstairs, Kurt could most definitely use a cup. He selected his favorite relaxing tea, a blend of peppermint and chamomile, and plopped the teabag in a cup of now scalding hot water.

Kurt yanked out a chair at his kitchen table, the chair legs squeaking indignantly on the tile, and slumped down into it. His tea cup was in front of him, and he nervously dragged the bag through the hot water, waiting. Waiting for… and then he heard it. The top step of his staircase creaked with even the slightest weight, so he knew Blaine was out of the shower and wandering around. He heard Blaine's slow descent to the lower level of the house, and then a timid, "Kurt?" rang through Kurt's ears.

Kurt took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. _Chill, Hummel. You can do this. You are an actor; if you cannot legitimately calm yourself down, you WILL at least act as though you are calm._

"In here, Blaine!" he called out, his voice embarrassingly high. He cringed at the sound of it.

Moments later, Blaine stepped cautiously through the doorway of the kitchen. "I followed the smell of your tea through the last few rooms. It smells amazing, do you have enough to share?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh! I'm such a terrible host." He jumped out of his chair, nearly upsetting it, and hurriedly poured another cup of hot water, narrowly avoiding spilling it on his hands.

"You're so jumpy," Blaine remarked. "Are you SURE you don't think I'm an axe murderer?"

Kurt gave him a genuine smile. "I promise," he said, holding up his fingers in a gesture of the Scout promise. His grin grew wider. "You look more the type to strangle someone with one of your bowties, anyway."

They both had a good chuckle over that. "No, really. It's just that I've lived alone for so long that I'm just not used to having anyone in my house. I haven't had so much as a goldfish in this place for years."

"Understandable. Maybe you might be more comfortable if you understand what kind of idiot you've allowed into your house?"

Kurt laughed and gestured for Blaine to proceed.

It didn't take much for them to fall into easy conversation. Blaine and Kurt shared with each other the immediate pertinent personal details, and afterward they segued into more complex topics of conversation. Though Blaine had immediately suspected it, he was delighted to learn that the incredibly gorgeous man before him at the kitchen was "100% gay," and together they shared war stories from their teenage years. Blaine's hand ached to hold Kurt's as they came to the more difficult parts of their stories, but Blaine managed to keep himself in check. After all, a rather massive blizzard raged on outside and inside Kurt's home, it was toasty warm; the last thing he wanted to do was get himself tossed outside on his ass.

Hours passed without either one of them realizing it. Kurt was in the middle of enthusiastically telling Blaine of some of his high school show choir, the New Directions, crazier antics when a huge yawn sneaked up on him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Kurt said with embarrassment. He tapped the unlock button on his cell phone and the display showed 12:26am. "Wow, we've been chatting for HOURS! " He took a peek at Blaine, who, while still paying close attention to Kurt's every word, was starting to look a little worse for the wear.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "You must be absolutely exhausted. C'mon, let me show you to the guest roo – " Kurt was interrupted after a loud growl from the vicinity of Blaine's stomach. "AFTER I feed you. Oh my gosh, I haven't even offered you any food." Kurt jumped up from the table and flew to his cabinets, frantically rummaging around for a small snack he could give Blaine to tide him over until morning.

"I have some crackers and some Pop-Tarts, though I'm not sure how long they've been here – it's been awhile since my stepbrother visited – and there's the Christmas cookies I was working on earlier today, and there's some milk in the fridge if you want a bowl of cereal and – "

Blaine stood up and went to Kurt. He gently placed a hand on Kurt's arm, holding him still. Kurt squeaked at the unexpected touch, and Blaine yanked away his hand as if he was burned.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just don't want you to go to any trouble just for me, Kurt. You've already done so much just by taking me in."

"Well, it wouldn't be part of the full bed and breakfast experience if I didn't at least give you the finest Cocoa Puffs I had to offer," he said with a grin, shaking the box enticingly. Blaine returned the grin and reached out for the box.

After a fast snack of chocolatey, crunchy goodness, Kurt led Blaine upstairs and directed him to the guest bedroom.

"Wow, it smells amazing in here!" Blaine couldn't help but comment.

"Lavender vanilla sachets between the sheets. I hope you're not allergic. I was freshening the place up in anticipation of my family's visit for the holidays, but as you've experienced yourself, the roads were too horrible, so they had to cancel."

"It's fabulous. I feel so spoiled! I'm sorry that I'm the one you're putting up with for the night instead of your family, though. It must suck to be without them on Christmas."

Kurt shrugged. "You're without your family, too."

"Yeah, but at least you _like_ being around yours. All I can picture in my head is my mom being upset that her dinner was ruined by her 'inconsiderate' son that didn't even bother to show up, and my father lamenting every single one of my shortcomings to anyone who will listen."

Kurt couldn't think of a way to respond to that, so he tried to just smile reassuringly at Blaine, but it ended up being more of an awkward grimace than anything else. Blaine came to Kurt's rescue by saying, "But I'm here instead, and already, despite the harrowing start, I've already had a far more enjoyable evening than I anticipated having at home, so it's all good. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome," Kurt said shyly. He allowed himself a few moments to gaze at the beautiful man untucking the covers from the spare bed in preparation for sleep, pressing a sachet to his nose and inhaling deeply before setting it down carefully on the bedside table, before snapping himself back into his host persona. "Well!" he said with a single hand clap. "You know where the bathroom is. My room's down the hall. And I keep my axes out back in the shed just in case you change your mind."

Blaine looked up at Kurt in confusion for a moment before he got the joke and then he began to chuckle. "I think I'll pass this time around. Santa hasn't visited me yet. He might not know where to find me this year, but if I murder you in your sleep, I am pretty sure I will be moved to the naughty list for next year, and we wouldn't want that."

"Yes, we wouldn't want that," Kurt repeated absently, all of a sudden reminded of exactly which naughty list he wouldn't mind seeing Blaine's name on. Shaking his head slightly to clear the sudden unsavory thoughts from his head, he bade Blaine a good night and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click and wandering slowly toward his own bedroom.

He performed his nightly routine perfunctorily, not even noticing when more than one step inadvertently got skipped. He was too busy thinking of the ridiculously sweet and_ ohmygodSOhot _man occupying his spare room down the hall.

Most of Kurt's bedtime apparel had gotten uncharacteristically ratty over the years; after all, no one had seen any of it for quite some time, and there weren't any prospects on the horizon, either, as far as Kurt could see, so what was the point on wasting fancy jammies on himself? But that night, he found himself sorting through the drawer of nightclothes that hadn't been opened for more than two years_._ He dug to the bottom of the pile and pulled out the pajamas that made him feel sexy: the soft blue cotton pants that felt like silk to his skin and the white, purposely slightly threadbare looking shirt that was just the tiniest bit too snug. Both garments clung tightly to his skin and defined every curve. _EVERY_ curve.

Blaine's mere presence had been driving Kurt's body crazy all evening. Perhaps, subconsciously, he was looking to dish out a little payback…


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine was awoken early the next morning by the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen below him. He stretched his arms out wide as he yawned mightily, trying to shake the sleepies out of his head. When his eyes finally focused and took in the room around him, he panicked slightly; it was completely unfamiliar territory to him. A whiff of lavender vanilla brought him immediately back to the present as a flood of memories from the past twelve or so washed over him: snow, stuck, Burberry, more snow, freezing, Kurt, _Heaven._

He crawled out of the soft cocoon of bedding (really, he had to ask Kurt what those were because his bed in his apartment in Michigan absolutely HAD to have some of those sheets) and stood up, slowly taking in the room around him. He hadn't had any sort of time or energy to give it a proper look the night before – he was too tired to even see straight by that point – but he was grateful he could give it the attention he could now. The room was stunning. The little he knew about Kurt shone through in the impeccably chosen furnishings. The topic of occupations, oddly, hadn't come up during their marathon chat, so Blaine was left wondering if Kurt perhaps was an interior designer for a living.

Blaine slipped into the attached bathroom and found that at some point, Kurt had sneaked in and put a fresh toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb on the vanity. Blaine's woefully understocked backpack had at least included his toiletries, but Blaine was touched by Kurt's attention to detail.

Blaine padded down the steps in bare feet and the borrowed night clothes towards the kitchen. A powerful tune floated through the downstairs and met Blaine as he passed through the living room. He stopped before reaching the kitchen so he could listen to Kurt's song uninterrupted.

_"I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!"_ Blaine was enchanted; Kurt's pitch was spot on and his voice absolutely soared over the high notes. He had never heard a man sing such high notes so beautifully before, but unlike most of the people Kurt had encountered through the years, Blaine thought nothing of it other than an incredible treat to his ears.

The song finished, and much to Blaine's disappointment, another one was not begun. Instead, he heard the sounds of plates clinking together, pot lids rattling, and the cook mumbling about one thing or another. Blaine grinned and moved silently toward the kitchen.

_Oh holy shit!_ He just barely stopped himself from exclaiming out loud. Kurt was bending over to pick something up off the floor, his ass pointing directly at Blaine. The poor excuse for pajama pants Kurt was wearing hugged his rear view magnificently, and Blaine had to cover his mouth to remind himself NOT to appreciate the scenery verbally. _Just remember… it's cold outside and your car is a mile away in a snow-filled ditch. Do NOT get yourself kicked out._ He stood just outside the doorway to the kitchen breathing deeply and composing himself before he felt calm enough to join Kurt in the kitchen.

"You sing beautifully," Blaine said, startling Kurt into nearly dropping the pot of cinnamon raisin oatmeal he was dishing up. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It seems like that's all I've done since I've been here." Blaine rushed over to try to help clean up the little bit that had spilled out of the pot, but Kurt waved him off.

"It's okay, I've got it." Blaine backed off and silently waited for him to complete his task.

"Damn, you've got a lot of food here. Are you expecting an army for breakfast?" Blaine teased.

Kurt chuckled. "Well, I WAS… my stepbrother Finn eats like an army. But no, this is all just for us. I laid in a huge supply of food for the holiday, and I didn't want it all to go to waste, and I didn't know what you like, so I just started cooking and, well… I kind of went a little overboard…" he said a bit sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

"A _little_ might be an understatement. But, no worries! I'm starving and I like everything, so I will do the best I can to relieve you of some of your burden!"

Kurt motioned for Blaine to take a seat at the kitchen table and slid a bowl of the steaming hot oatmeal in front of him. "Good. You can start with this, and the eggs will be ready by the time you finish."

Blaine took a deep breath and began to dig into the bowl of oatmeal. It was the perfect bowl, in his opinion – not one iota too much or too little cinnamon, the raisins were fresh and plump, and it was just this side of too mushy.

"Wow. If your oatmeal is this good, I can't wait to try the rest of your food!" Blaine complimented him.

"I've had a lot of time to become a good cook. I think I mentioned last night that it was just me and my dad for a long time. His cooking could turn the most cast iron of stomachs, so it was up to me to make sure we had edible meals every day. I still cook for myself most nights. Some people say it's too much trouble to cook for just one, but I've never felt that way."

"Well, never stop," Blaine said through a mouthful of food. "You _not _cooking would be a crime."

They ate together in comfortable silence until Blaine finally pushed his chair away from the table. "Ugh. I am STUFFED. I don't think I've eaten that much food in a WEEK before, let alone in one meal."

"Finn has still got you beat. Though he's a good eight inches taller than you are, so he's got more body to feed. Or so he claims, anyway. I'm sure it's just an excuse to pack more in without looking like a complete pig." Kurt's face dropped in horror as he realized what he had said. "Not that _YOU_ look like a complete pig or anything. I TOTALLY didn't mean it that way. I just… ugh." He buried his face in his hands on the table. "Please forget I said anything," he said, his words barely more than a mumble.

"Said what?" Blaine said, smiling. He reached across the table and placed a gentle hand on Kurt's shoulder. "For the record, though, my mind didn't even go there when you said that, so I wasn't offended."

"Thank you," Kurt said softly. He looked up from his hands and appraised Blaine silently. "Look at you, still in pajamas!"

"Oh yeah, I should probably change. My clothes from yesterday should still be okay, I think – "

"Nonsense. I have more clothes in this house than Macy's – I'm sure I can find something that would fit you. In fact… come with me." Kurt stood up, rounded the table, and grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling him up from his chair. Blaine trotted after Kurt awkwardly and followed him up the stairs to the bedroom he had slept in the previous night.

Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and went directly to the closet. He dug through the clothing, shuffling garment after garment around, until he found an outfit packed away in a drycleaner's bag.

"He never cared for this one," Kurt said, "but it would look perfect on you."

"Who's 'he'?" Blaine asked cautiously.

Kurt was silent for a moment. "My boyfriend, Shane."

"Oh!" Blaine said, beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend…"

"I don't. Not anymore. Shane was killed in a car accident on his way to work a couple of years ago. He was broadsided on the driver's side by a bus when its brakes failed – he never had a chance."

"Oh god, Kurt, I'm so sorry! That had to have been awful."

"It was." Kurt looked down at the garments in his hands and smiled softly. "He had terrible taste in clothing. I bought this stuff for him, desperately hoping to get him to allow me to upgrade his wardrobe a bit, but he took one look at it and said, 'No way in hell.'"

Blaine looked past Kurt into the closet behind him, taking in all the ratty tees and sweatshirts and jeans, and laughed. "You had to have known that your efforts would be futile."

Kurt grinned. "Yeah, I did, but one could always hope." He handed the garment bag to Blaine and ushered him into the bathroom. "Go ahead, put it on! I want to see!"

Blaine took just a few minutes to change and sashayed out of the bathroom like a runway model. Kurt clapped in delight. "Perfect! It's like that outfit was made for you."

"Maybe it was," Blaine said. Kurt gasped, wondering what Blaine could've meant by that, but Blaine was too busy spinning in front of Kurt's full length mirror to pay him any mind, so Kurt chose to try not to read too much into it. Still, he couldn't stop thoughts of "maybe it's fate" from running through his head.

Kurt let Blaine continue twirling and approached the closet to get a good look inside. _I really need to clean this out,_ he thought. _I have no idea why it's taken me so long…_

"You must miss him," Blaine said from behind Kurt, startling him a bit.

"I do… and yet, I kind of don't. Oh gosh, that sounds awful. I mean, yes, I miss him. I cared about him an awful lot and he was a big part of my life for years. But yet… we had reached that point in our relationship where it was becoming obvious it wasn't working anymore. We were fighting a _lot._ He wasn't happy; we left New York, where we met, when it became financially impossible for us to survive anymore, and came back here to be near my family. He didn't have anyone other than me in New York, otherwise he might've broken it off then and stayed. But he didn't, so he followed me here. And he constantly let it be known that he didn't want to be here. I'm not glad he's dead or anything. Not at all. But his death took a really hard decision away from me, and in a way, it was a relief."

Blaine nodded in understanding. "I get it."

"I'll always love him, but the more time that passes, the more I realize that I wasn't _in_ love with him. I still feel like a monster when I think to myself, maybe it was for the best, but then I realize, maybe it really _was_ for the best."

"You're not a monster. I totally get it. Still doesn't make it suck any less though, does it?"

"No. Not at all." Kurt allowed a moment of silence of sorts, and then, like flipping a light switch, his mood changed. "Well! Enough melancholy thoughts! It's CHRISTMAS! I will give you a few moments to finish any freshening up you want to do while I go change myself, and then I expect you to meet me downstairs in the living room for a ceremonial Christmas tree lighting and a marathon of Christmas classics."

"I wouldn't miss it," Blaine assured him.

"You don't really get a choice," Kurt said, moving to leave the room. "Don't be long!" he called over his shoulder as he began to dash toward his own bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine spent a few moments brushing his teeth, refreshing his deodorant, and attempting to do something with the rat's nest on his head. Though he couldn't really do anything with the style without product, he considered it a victory when he was able to run the brush through his hair without pulling half of it out. When he finally came to the conclusion that it wasn't going to get any better than it was in that moment, he set the brush down, took one last look at himself in the mirror (_Damn, these pants make my ass look _good, he thought to himself), and trotted down the stairs to find Kurt in the living room.

When he entered the room, he found Kurt hovering near the electrical outlet nearest the tree, the plug for the lights in his hands.

"It's about time!" he exclaimed impatiently. He stared anxiously at Blaine, and Blaine did his best to school his face into his very best anticipatory look.

"Go for it!" he urged Kurt. Kurt spun around and gleefully slid the plug into the socket.

The tree came to life, and if Blaine was to tell the truth, it kind of confused him a little. The tree he saw did not match the picture he'd painted in his head of the man in front of him.

Kurt chuckled. "I see your face, and I know what you're thinking. Not quite what you expected from me, huh?"

"Well, to be honest…"

"I knew it. Let's just say, the yearly Christmas tree is one of the few aspects of my life where I am able to dial down my anal-retentiveness a notch and go with something that's NOT perfectly ordered and coordinated and just _so._ In fact, I insist that it's NOT." He stepped toward the tree and gently touched several of the ornaments hanging. "My mom's perfume bottle. I always loved the way she smelled. It was the first thing I hung on the first tree we put up after her death. I was eight," Kurt said, asking the unasked question in Blaine's eyes. "My first ever Christmas ornament." He ran his fingers over an ornament of a sleeping infant in a basket labeled _Baby's 1__st__ Christmas 1994._ "My family as it is now," he said, pointing to a frame that held a picture of his father, his stepmother, his stepbrother and sister-in-law with his two nephews, and himself. Blaine looked on with interest as Kurt showed him all the special ornaments on the tree.

"And now…" Kurt said, reaching behind the tree and grabbing a small package, "present time!"

"What?" Blaine exclaimed. "We don't even know each other. Why would you give me a Christmas gift?"

"Oh shush, you!" Kurt said, waving off Blaine's protests. "For one thing, we blabbed on and on last night to the point where I think I know more about you than I ever did about Shane, so I'd like to think I know you well enough to give you something. And for another, it's Christmas. Everyone should have a present to open."

"But I don't have anything for… wait! I do!" Blaine leapt to his feet and darted out of the room towards the stairs, not even hearing Kurt calling after him.

Blaine returned to the guest room and unzipped his backpack. He had placed one of the gifts he was bringing back home inside because of its small size – it would've just gotten lost in his luggage. He ripped off the original gift tag and trotted back downstairs to rejoin Kurt.

"Here!" he exclaimed, slightly out of breath, thrusting the gift at Kurt.

"Blaine, no…"

"'It's Christmas, Blaine. Everyone should have a present to open,'" Blaine quoted Kurt in response.

Kurt's face widened into a soft smile. "Touché."

"You first!" Blaine said excitedly.

Kurt delicately removed the haphazardly taped-on paper from a tiny box. He lifted the lid and peered inside, his face a mixture of surprise and delight. "Oh my gosh, it's gorgeous!"

Inside the box was a beautiful peacock brooch, tastefully encrusted in brightly colored crystals.

"I purchased this for my mother as a joke," Blaine explained. Kurt frowned, obviously not thinking the wonderful pin could be anything even resembling a joke, but Blaine waved him off. "Hear me out. It didn't take me very long to figure out that my mother hates everything. I tried for years to get her something that would make her happy, but nothing ever changed, so I figured, why put any effort into it? So after awhile, I made it my mission to get her things that I myself like but that she would hate more than anything. That way, a couple days after Christmas, I can dig through the donation box, where my gifts inevitably go, and sneak it back.

"This year, I was browsing an antique shop – I'm kind of an old soul, and my apartment is furnished in vintage items – and I found this. I like it a lot, myself. I wish I could wear it, but I'm afraid I'm not fabulous enough to pull it off. I KNEW my mom would hate it, though, so I grabbed it for her. But you? I can totally see you wearing this brooch with pride. And as much fun as it is to annoy the hell out of people who don't care much about me in the first place, I would much rather see it go to someone who can appreciate it for everything that it is."

"Oh, I do! It's just exquisite. It's not really old enough to have been in an antique shop, but it's definitely vintage, and I think it might even be genuine Swarovski crystals." Kurt examined the pin carefully for a few moments before looking up at Blaine. "Thank you, Blaine. I adore it, and I can already see several outfit combinations in my head where this will be the piece de resistance. But I feel kind of bad that you won't have a gift for your mom now."

"Eh, no big deal. She won't even notice that there's nothing from me to give away this year."

"But still… she's your mom…" Kurt trailed off. Blaine saw the wistful look in Kurt's eyes and was immediately reminded that Kurt had _just_ told him about his mother and obviously still missed her greatly. He resolved to pick up something for his own mother as a replacement gift on his way to his parents' house when he left Kurt's place. Whenever that would be.

"Don't worry," he assured Kurt. "I'll do something for her. But in the meantime…?" He held up the box that Kurt had presented him with and gave Kurt a puppy dog face, his expression begging Kurt for permission to open it.

"How could I say no to that face?" Kurt said, giggling. "Go ahead, open it!"

Blaine contemplated the package and shook it, making note of the satisfying rattle it made. It sounded familiar, but Blaine couldn't quite place the sound.

Unlike Kurt, Blaine grabbed hold of the wrapping paper on his gift and tore it off in ragged shreds.

"A LEGO IRON MAN FIGURE!" Blaine practically screamed. After momentarily being scared shitless from Blaine's outburst, Kurt began laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my gosh," he said, holding his stomach as he laughed. "Your face! It's priceless!"

"Stop laughing, Kurt. This is _serious._ Tony Stark is, like, AWESOME, and Iron Man is totally the best Avenger. Maybe even the best super hero ever. Though Batman could give him a run for his money – Iron Man has a FLYING SUIT, but Batman's pecs in that skin tight suit are a gay boy's wet dream. Batman can't fly, though, even though he has a cape. Why would you give a guy a cape and then not even make him fly? It makes no sense, Kurt, no sense at all…" Blaine completely forgot Kurt was standing there watching him as he rambled on. He ripped the box open and dumped the pieces out on the coffee table, immediately searching for the parts that would complete the first step of the build.

Kurt laughed so hard he snorted. "You are such a geek, Blaine! I knew you would like this because I originally bought it for my high school friend Sam and you remind me a lot of him, but this surpassed even my wildest dreams!"

"Too much talking. Busy," Blaine declared as he followed the instructions carefully.

Kurt watched him build for a few moments as he calmed down, but then he cleared his throat loudly to catch Blaine's attention.

"_AHEM,_ Blaine," he said sternly.

Blaine snapped out of his super hero induced haze. "Oh! Oh my god, I did it again, didn't I? I'm sorry Kurt! I just get so wrapped up in things…"

"It's okay," Kurt said. "I think it's adorable." _I think _you're _adorable_, he mumbled under his breath to himself.

Blaine jumped up from his "building station" on the coffee table (quite gingerly so he didn't disturb his work in progress, of course) and gave Kurt a quick hug. "Thank you, Kurt. I love it!"

"Gee, I couldn't tell," Kurt said sarcastically.

Blaine gave him a winning, deceptively innocent grin and settled back down in front of the table to continue building Iron Man. Kurt picked up the remote control and turned on the TV, pulling up the on-screen TV guide to decided where they would start their Christmas movie marathon. Deciding to begin with a sappy classic, he flipped over to _It's a Wonderful Life_, though the effect was somewhat ruined when Blaine finished building his action figure and began flying him around the room. Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine dashed past the TV during the iconic "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings" scene and huffed in mock annoyance. He wouldn't admit this to anyone, at least, not at that particular moment, but Blaine really was endearing.

As the credits scrolled, Kurt referred to the TV guide again to choose the next film. As he was just about to select the original version of _Miracle on 34__th__ Street,_ Blaine spoke up.

"C'mon, Kurt," he whined. "I know your idea of Christmas Classics is all the sappy ones, but can we pretty pretty please get some laughter up into this joint? See? Look! _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_ is just about to start! Please, Kurt?"

Kurt pretended to think about it for a moment to tease Blaine, but he loved the _Vacation_ movies as well and acquiesced. "All right, you win."

"Yay!" Blaine cheered. He flopped down onto the sofa next to Kurt and stole the remote from his hands, clicking over to the proper station and cranking the volume. _"It's that time, Christmas time is here! Everybody knows there's not a better time of year. Hear that sleigh, Santa's on his way! Hip, hip, hooray, for Christmas vacation!"_ He sang along.

"You're such a dork, Blaine."

"Yeah, but I'm a _cute_ dork!" Blaine retorted.

Kurt merely shrugged his shoulders indifferently and said, "Meh," but internally he was saying _Oh god, yes, you are the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life. Kittens and puppies are butt ugly compared to you…_

"Oh Kurt, Kurt! I LOVE this part!" He jumped up and stood next to the TV alongside Clark Griswold and quoted along with the movie. "Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas. Kiss my ass. Kiss his ass. Kiss your ass. Happy Hanukkah."

Kurt successfully held in his laughter… for about three seconds. Blaine kept a poker face as he said that line and Kurt just couldn't help it.

"Oh my gosh, Blaine – just call you Clark W. Griswold, Jr.!"

"I can only hope to be that awesome," Blaine said solemnly. He returned to his place on the couch, and Kurt noticed he was sitting a lot closer than before. Like a third of a cushion away this time instead of a full one. But somehow, Kurt didn't mind.

They laughed their way through more of the movie. Cousin Eddie appeared on the screen and together, he and Blaine announced that "the shitter was full," but before Blaine and Kurt could giggle over the crass line, the entire house went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

"Crap," Kurt exclaimed. "I knew that wind sounded like trouble!" He awkwardly crawled over Blaine, accidently landing in his lap in the process, and fumbled through the end table drawer for a flashlight. The embarrassment over feeling what he _thought_ he felt as he rested on Blaine's lap for those few brief moments colored his face what he assumed was a bright, hot tomato red. He pretended to have a hard time finding the on switch on the light in order to give himself time to compose himself before he finally flipped it on to provide a weak beam of brightness in the pitch black room.

"Can you build a fire in the fireplace? I have an electric furnace rather than a gas one, and this place is going to get awfully cold awfully fast," he asked Blaine, who immediately assured him that yes, he could handle that.

"Okay, good. I'm going to feel my way into the other room and grab my box of emergency candles, and then we can just hang out in here in front of the fire."

"Sounds good," Blaine said agreeably. He flashed the light toward the door to the living room so Kurt could at least make it that far safely, and then he set to work building a fire.

The kindling had just taken hold and begun to burn brightly when Kurt re-entered the room, holding a tall pillar candle in one hand and a box of various half-burned odds and ends in the other. He set the pillar down carefully on the coffee table and knelt before it. He pulled candles out one at a time and touched their wicks to the original flame and set them around the room.

"Some of the scents will clash a bit, but at least we'll be able to see," Kurt said. "The fire looks great. It should be full strength in no time."

"What time is it?" Blaine asked.

"It's like 8pm. I'm definitely not sleepy enough to turn in yet."

"Me neither."

The two fell silent, and Kurt wracked his brain trying to think of something they could do together. He didn't have any battery powered portable electronics for them to continue their movie viewing with, and his game selection was geared towards large groups.

"I don't suppose you'd be at all interested in perusing the brand new issue of Vogue I got in the mail the other day, would you?"

Blaine's face lit up. "Are you kidding? I love Vogue! I haven't kept up with it recently, though; I dropped my subscription about six months ago to save a little money."

Kurt brightened considerably and presented the magazine to Blaine with a flourish. As the light was brighter directly in front of the fire, they laid a few blankets before the hearth and sat down criss-cross-applesauce style on the floor.

Together they discussed the trends; Kurt was far more up-to-date on the newest styles and had many opinions of them. Blaine preferred to offer his two cents only occasionally. He enjoyed listening to Kurt speak about something he was obviously passionate about. Blaine, still not knowing what Kurt did for a living, amended his guess to something having to do with the fashion industry.

They sat for only about an hour when Blaine realized how cold he was getting. "Damn, you weren't lying about the heating problems you have with this house. My ass is numb from the cold, and I'm pretty sure my fingers are going to break off any moment."

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry! Here," Kurt said, tossing Blaine a large fleece blanket.

Kurt rooted around for a second blanket for himself, but Blaine unfolded the blanket and said invitingly, "Big enough for two, Kurt!" Kurt hesitated briefly but abandoned his search for the additional blanket.

He and Blaine settled back down on the floor, and Blaine scooted heart-racingly close to Kurt. He tossed the blanket around their shoulders, and each one tucked their end in snugly.

They sat in silence staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Kurt caught himself shifting his gaze toward Blaine, but Blaine's eyes were already on him, a dreamy look on his face.

Kurt allowed his eyes to lock with Blaine's but broke the gaze as soon as he felt himself slowly leaning toward Blaine.

_Snap out of it, Hummel. You _just_ met the man. You don't do this kind of thing!_

"I – I… I'm, um, getting tired. I think I'm g-gonna lay d-down," Kurt stuttered out nervously.

Blaine's eyes, which had drifted shut in anticipation of what he was sure was going to be an epic kiss when he noticed Kurt getting closer to him, flew open and he wrenched himself backwards. "Oh! Oh, um yeah, I could sleep." He couldn't help the severely disappointed look on his face. He hoped Kurt wouldn't notice.

Unfortunately, Kurt noticed. _Fucking conscience,_ he thought. He patted the spot on the floor next to him invitingly, hoping to assuage Blaine's disappointment. He grabbed a couple of the throw pillows on the couch and gently bopped Blaine on the head with one of them. "Here you go. Hopefully they're comfortable enough to sleep on. I know I sure don't want to leave our warm little cocoon here to go upstairs for real ones."

"Oh, I can go get them!" Blaine began to get up, wanting to be helpful, but he hadn't even fully gotten untangled from the blanket before he said, "Oh HELL no. Yeah, these'll do," he said, snuggling back into the blanket and pulling a decorative pillow under his head. He was thankful they weren't too frou-frou – tassels or fabric covered buttons would make rather awkward impressions in his face overnight.

Kurt chuckled at the look of disgust on Blaine's face. "Told ya!"

Kurt laid down a good foot and a half away from Blaine, trying to give both Blaine and himself some space. He frowned when he noticed that the blanket wasn't wide enough to tuck under himself very well – he could feel a little of the cooling air against his torso where the blanket didn't quite meet the floor.

Blaine looked over at him and frowned. "You're so far away. C'mon, I don't bite."

Kurt moved closer to Blaine and immediately felt warmer. Blaine's body was like a space heater; he practically radiated heat.

"See? Much better."

They lay on their sides facing each other in front of the firelight and looked into each other's eyes. Deep blue-green might've connected with warm hazel for a few minutes or a few hours, who knew. Finally, Kurt brought himself back to the present and smiled softly. "Good night, Blaine," he said.

Blaine looked startled after being brought out of his daze. "Oh! Good night, Kurt. Sweet dreams."

**xXxXxXx**

It was warm. _Very_ warm. How could he possibly be so warm when he went to bed so cold?

And he felt bound. He felt pressure on his back and around his waist. Did he wear his corset yesterday?

_Why am I on the floor? In front of the fireplace?_ He stirred and tried to get up, but a weight was holding him down. A weight that he couldn't shake off. A weight that… had arms?

As more and more consciousness returned to him, he remembered things. The Christmas movie marathon. The power outage. Blaine.

He shook the fogginess out of his head and waited until his eyes came into focus. The man clinging to him like a koala in his sleep was, in a word, exquisite. Kurt couldn't lie - he had a hard time pulling his eyes away from every inch of perfection cuddled up to him. But it didn't end at his looks, either. So many hours with nothing to do but talk had solidified his opinion that they just didn't get any better than Blaine.

Blaine shifted in his sleep and tightened his hold on Kurt, pulling him closer. Blaine's full lips were now a hair's breadth away from his own. Kurt allowed himself to be held as the two warring factions inside his head argued with each other. _He's asleep, wouldn't that be considered non-consensual?_ said his more rational side, but his admittedly hornier side said, _But _look_ at him! He's fucking gorgeous! And we totally hit it off – he's not going to mind!_

What felt like hours, but in reality was only a couple of minutes, went by as the debating went on inside his head. He probably would've lain there indecisively until the sun rose, but then it happened. Blaine nuzzled his cheek against Kurt's, a smile spreading across his face. A single word, spoken reverently, escaped his lips in a whisper.

_"Kurt…"_


	7. Chapter 7

Something inside of Kurt snapped, and throwing all caution to the wind, he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips firmly to Blaine's. Blaine's eyes shot open as he felt the pressure, and, startled, Kurt pulled away instantly.

"Oh god, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Kurt said in embarrassment.

Blaine gazed at him sleepily yet tenderly. "Yes, you should have. I've been wanting to do that ever since I laid eyes on you."

"Really?"

"Seriously, Kurt? My verbal diarrhea and inappropriate fawning over you when you opened your door to me the other night didn't give you a clue?"

"Well, you DID just call out my name in your sleep," Kurt said knowingly.

"I DIDN'T!" Blaine said, horrified.

"You did!"

"Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be," said Kurt softly, forcing Blaine to look at him. "I really liked it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And you know what else I really liked?"

"What?"

"This." Kurt gently slid his fingers through the curls on the back of Blaine's head and pulled him in for another kiss.

"Ungh," Blaine groaned. "Fuck, your lips are delicious."

Suddenly, they couldn't get close enough to each other. The cold room beyond the blankets had been all but forgotten; there was nothing but heat surrounding them now. The room soon filled with the sounds of sloppy kisses and muffled moans.

Knowing that Kurt hadn't been with anyone since his boyfriend had passed away, Blaine let Kurt take the lead, not wanting to scare him off. Kurt didn't disappoint – he became almost predatory, rolling Blaine onto his back and practically pouncing on him. Kurt straddled Blaine's legs and sat on his upper thighs. When he leaned over to again capture Blaine's lips in a searing kiss, their groins grew achingly close – close enough to tease, but not close enough to provide any sort of release. Blaine tried to arch his back, lift his ass, do ANYTHING to make just that little bit more contact with Kurt's body, but Kurt's weight had Blaine effectively pinned down.

Blaine felt like he should be panicky – some things had happened in his teenage years that caused him to freak out whenever his range of motion was forcibly restricted – but he wasn't. Something about Kurt made Blaine trust him more than he ever thought he could possibly trust someone who was essentially still a stranger.

Kurt peppered Blaine's jaw, chin, and neck with butterfly kisses and soft nibbles, almost torturing him with kitten licks and finding erogenous zones that Blaine had no idea he had. His eyes drifted shut in pleasure and he threw his head back, exposing the entire length of his neck for Kurt. Seeing Blaine's distraction, Kurt went in for the kill. He fastened his lips right at the juncture of Blaine's neck and shoulder and sucked hard; at the same time, he ground his hips against Blaine's, granting him the friction he had been wordlessly begging for.

Blaine's reaction was instantaneous. "FUCK!" he yelled. His pelvis bucked wildly, nearly toppling Kurt with his strength. "Oh shit, sorry. Come back!" he begged, reaching out with grabby hands to pull Kurt closer.

Kurt chuckled as he allowed Blaine to take his hands, and Blaine yanked him forward, causing him to fall again, this time landing so his entire body covered Blaine's.

Despite Kurt's slender figure, the weight of his body landing against Blaine's momentarily knocked the wind out of both of them. They said nothing for a few moments, allowing themselves to catch their breath, before Blaine grinned. "_MUCH_ better."

Kurt resituated himself carefully on top of Blaine and leaned down to reclaim Blaine's lips. He was done with the teasing, though. As his erection connected with Blaine's, Blaine knew they were about to get down to business.

Kurt let out the most delicious moan Blaine had ever heard as their painfully hard cocks made contact with each other. They had stripped down to their boxers before laying down to sleep earlier, but it wasn't long at all before both men were wishing that even that thin barrier didn't exist anymore.

Just as Blaine was debating whether or not he should just throw all caution to the wind and strip down the rest of the way, and encourage Kurt to do the same, Kurt began rocking his pelvis into Blaine's, and the sensations he was creating was causing Blaine's brain to short circuit. There was officially nothing left on his mind except Kurt, cock, and _ohholyshitthisisfuckingamazi ng._

Blaine wrapped his arms and legs around Kurt, ensuring that every possible millimeter of his body was touching Kurt somehow. Kurt's movements were punctuated by many a muffled grunt or not-so-muffled moan.

They moved in unison with each other for a surprisingly long time; Kurt was so turned on by the noises coming out of the man below him that he had thought for sure their time together would've ended by now. _My stamina must be improving_, he thought.

One particularly hard thrust had Blaine crying out, "_STOP!"_ his voice sounding strangled.

* * *

**A/N: This was originally just going to be a very long one shot. But then I got to thinking - there were PLENTY of places where I could cut chapters to maximize my readers' frustration, and I liked that idea, because I am an evil bitch. I promise tomorrow is what you were thinking you were going to see today.**


	8. Chapter 8

Here ya go, my patient little smutketeers - I hope this doesn't disappoint.

* * *

Startled, Kurt leapt away from Blaine's embrace and immediately began freaking out.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I got carried away, it's been so long and I just couldn't help it and you're so incredibly fucking hot and I just… I'm _sorry_, Blaine. I don't know how many times I'll have to say it but I _really_ didn't want to fuck this up and now I did and –"

"Holy shit, Kurt, you have some nerve making fun of me and MY verbal diarrhea – seems to me I have some major competition."

Kurt buried his face in his hands in embarrassment, but Blaine wasn't having any of that. He scooted over closer to Kurt and hugged him tight.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You did _everything_ right. SO right, in fact, that I was just about to come in my boxers." He dropped his voice down to a low, growly whisper and spoke directly into Kurt's ear. "The only time I want to come is while I'm inside you. _Please_, Kurt, can I come inside you?" he begged.

The arousal coursing through Kurt's body melted all his bones away – he was a puddle of Kurt on the pile of blankets. "_Yes,_" he breathed out.

"Do you have any…?"

Kurt weakly pointed behind him at a side table with a drawer where Kurt and Shane had kept a small stash of supplies. He hadn't even thought about clearing out that drawer until now, but suddenly he was glad he hadn't.

"Check them… they're old… from…" Kurt said, not able to finish his thought, but knowing Kurt's story, Blaine knew exactly what he meant. He glanced at the items in his hand and was pleased to note that everything was still safe to use.

He set them down just out of their way and placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders, slowly pushing him back down to the floor. Kurt stared up at Blaine, starry-eyed, and Blaine returned the gaze for several moments before trailing his hands down Kurt's chest, causing him to shudder, and stopped at the waistband of Kurt's skimpy boxer briefs.

"May I?" Blaine asked softly, his fingers toying with the elastic while waiting for Kurt's permission.

"Y-yes," Kurt said. "You too."

Blaine caught a hint of apprehension in Kurt's tone of voice. "You sure?"

"Yes," he said, a little more sure of himself this time. "I need you so bad, Blaine."

Kurt looked up at Blaine with total sincerity and trust. If Blaine was being honest, it was a little daunting; it was hard to comprehend how a person he had just met less than forty-eight hours ago could place this much trust in him, but one soft smile from Kurt made him want to make this as perfect as it could be.

Blaine made short work of the last of their garments, and then he leaned back behind him to grab the condom and lube he had set aside a few moments ago. The faint click of the bottle as Blaine opened it was enough to snap Kurt out of the momentary anticipatory haze he had slipped into.

Their eyes locked as Blaine reached between them with slick fingers to prepare Kurt. He leaned over, pressing his lips firmly to Kurt's, and effectively distracted Kurt from the momentary discomfort from not having been with anyone for quite some time. By the time Blaine had moved up to three fingers, any pain there was had completely disappeared, and Kurt was writhing in pleasure underneath Blaine. The stream of hushed babbling pouring from Kurt's mouth assured Blaine that he was doing everything right and that Kurt was ready for him.

Kurt whined when Blaine removed his fingers, but Blaine was quick to silence his protest with a deep kiss. He pulled away just long enough to grab the condom and tear it open. Just as he was ready to put it on himself, Kurt took it from him.

"Please, I want to."

Blaine could do nothing but nod, and Kurt reached down to take Blaine into his hands. He was pleased to discover Blaine was every bit as big as he felt when they were grinding against each other, but that fact also made him a bit nervous.

"Please, go slow," Kurt requested. "It's been a long time."

"Of course," Blaine promised.

Kurt rolled the condom on Blaine's erection, stroking it a few times once it was on just because he could. It was beautiful. _Blaine_ was beautiful.

Blaine poured a bit more lube into his hand and slicked himself up. After drying his hands on a tissue, he leaned over Kurt on his hands and knees and took a moment to admire the magnificent creature below him.

As Blaine was once more about to ask Kurt if everything was okay, Kurt reached up and yanked on his shoulders, causing him to collapse onto Kurt's body.

"_Now_, Blaine," he commanded.

Taking a deep breath and nodding, he positioned himself against Kurt's entrance and began to push slowly inside. Kurt couldn't help his sharp intake of breath and slight wince as Blaine pressed steadily forward. He stopped briefly and looked questioningly at Kurt, silently asking him if he should continue, and Kurt answered by wrapping his legs around Blaine's waist and urging him closer.

When Blaine finally bottomed out, he gathered Kurt into his arms and just held him as Kurt got used to the feel of Blaine inside him. Kurt was grateful for the chance to acclimate; not only had it been a long time since Kurt had been intimate with someone, but Blaine was a big boy and it really kind of hurt.

Blaine was content to wait as long as necessary for Kurt, but before long, Kurt began wriggling underneath him and Blaine took it as permission to get down to business.

He withdrew and pushed back in, a little faster this time, to gauge Kurt's reaction. Satisfied with the low moan Kurt let out, Blaine figured he was in the clear and began to thrust in and out of Kurt in a steady rhythm.

Blaine felt amazing inside him, but it wasn't quite enough. After a few minutes of being no closer to coming than he had been before they started, Kurt was about to say something to Blaine when Blaine stopped his movements long enough to grab Kurt's legs and hook them over his shoulders.

"It's like you read my mind," Kurt said breathily.

All of a sudden, the game changed completely. Every iota of movement brought new sensations surging through his body. He felt like couldn't breathe, in the best possible way. He involuntarily clenched down on Blaine, causing him to shout Kurt's name.

"Jesus _fuck_, Kurt, tell me you're there!"

"I'm there," he panted out.

"Thank _god…_"

Blaine snapped his hips into Kurt just a few more times and groaned. He was so lost in his own orgasm that he barely even noticed Kurt practically losing his mind and spilling warm between them.

"Guh," Blaine said, temporarily unable to form an actual word.

"That was… "

"It sure was."

They laid quietly, catching their breath. After a few moments, Kurt had regained enough energy to reach for a box of Kleenex and handed it to Blaine after grabbing a few for himself. After cleaning up a bit, Kurt felt the urge to clear something up.

"So… uh, wow. That happened. Um, I just want you to know that I don't normally do… _this_. I don't just sleep with everyone who shows up on my doorstep during a blizzard looking all cute and not at all serial killer-like."

Blaine chuckled. "Kurt, I _get_ it. I don't normally do this, either. But I'm glad we, uh, got together. You are amazingly hot and sexy and you definitely took my mind off how I was so cold I thought my balls were gonna fall off."

It was Kurt's turn to laugh. He snorted in a delicate way that Blaine thought was adorable. "Oh, you baby. It's not THAT cold in here. Though I must say, I'm glad they stayed firmly attached. They came in quite handy."

They sat for a minute feeling slightly awkward when Blaine sprawled out on his back and reached for Kurt. "I'm a big time cuddler after sex. Care to indulge me?"

Kurt smiled. "Okay. But I get to be the little spoon."

"Done."

Blaine rolled onto his side and patted the blanket next to him. Kurt obliged him and lay down, giggling when Blaine snaked his arm underneath him and tickled his sensitive side in the process.

"Blaine!" he squeaked.

"Sorry," Blaine apologized, not sounding at all sorry. "_SorryI'mnotsorry_," he said in a rush.

"Brat," Kurt said. He tried to swat playfully at Blaine, but Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and pinned Kurt's arms to his sides, effectively immobilizing him. Kurt tried to pull a frown, but it didn't work. Blaine met Kurt's frown with his own patented puppy dog eyes and Kurt could do nothing but cave gracefully. He snuggled into Blaine's embrace, Blaine holding Kurt tightly like he was his own personal teddy bear.

Blaine rested his chin in the crook of Kurt's neck and held him tightly. Being so close caused Blaine's body to buzz with anticipation. Parts of his body, which had before been down for the count, were recovering and ready for more action. Their post-coital cuddling, filled with comfort and affection, quickly escalated in something just as comforting but far more heated. Unable to kiss Kurt properly on the lips, he took advantage of the opportunity to explore body parts and patches of skin that he hadn't yet had access to. He and Kurt remained spooned together as Blaine ground his hips against Kurt's ass, his cock reviving as it slid between Kurt's cheeks. He captured Kurt's earlobe between his lips and gently sucked, causing Kurt to squeal with unexpected pleasure. Blaine reached around to Kurt's chest and allowed his nimble fingertips to trace around Kurt's nipples, never once giving the stiff peaks the full attention that they begged for; Blaine was being nothing but a tease, but it was a truly delicious kind of torture.

Kurt was quite the trooper – he was able to enjoy Blaine's ministrations without the tension inside his body boiling over for quite some time, but eventually, he could handle it no longer. He leaned his head back onto Blaine's shoulder and looked into Blaine's eyes, the desperation clearly showing on his face. Blaine placed a soft kiss on Kurt's lips and acquiesced – he was more than ready, himself.

He quickly prepared himself and slid into Kurt, his body still open and ready to receive him. Kurt sighed in relief, as if Blaine joining with him was the only thing that could make him feel whole again. They moved lazily together, the frenzy of passion and need gone and in its place was just the desire to be close, to be as one. Blaine covered every bit of skin he could reach with his lips with soft, butterfly kisses and did the best he could to touch everything else he could with his hands, not wanting a single bit of Kurt to feel neglected.

It was a long, slow buildup until Blaine shifted minutely behind Kurt to rest his hip and get a bit better leverage. He touched new places inside Kurt, sensitive places that he hadn't yet touched, and it was enough to cause Kurt to curse. Blaine had figured out that Kurt only swore in extenuating circumstances, so he knew he hit a good spot and made a note to stay positioned exactly where he was in hopes of make Kurt cry out again and again.

"Blaine… _fuck_," Kurt breathed out. He took that as his signal to begin moving his hips in earnest. He could've orgasmed at any time, but he wanted to do his best in bringing Kurt to climax at the same time.

Apparently Kurt sensed Blaine holding back; he cranked his neck and made eye contact with him.

With as deep of a voice as Kurt could muster, he commanded him, "_Come_, Blaine."

And he did.

The pulsing of Blaine's cock inside him caused Kurt to finish as well, and together they rode the waves of their pleasure.

"I think I just saw God," Blaine said, trying to catch his breath.

"Nope, just me," Kurt mumbled, face first into the pillow beneath his head. He was quickly succumbing to exhaustion, and he was finding it difficult to keep his eyelids open.

"Time to clean up, Kurt," Blaine said.

"Mmmm, no. Sleep first clean later," he protested.

He could vaguely feel tissues swiping across his skin as Blaine took care of him, but he found himself being pulled under into unconsciousness. He thought he heard Blaine say, "Sweet dreams, Kurt," but he was already too far gone to acknowledge him or wish him the same.

* * *

A/N: If the amount of smut one reads was directly related to the quality of smut one produces, I would be the world's most talented smut writer in all of history. But alas, I am not. I hope it wasn't too awkward.


	9. Chapter 9

The sun shone brightly through the window in Kurt's living room, a sunbeam falling directly in Kurt's face, forcing him back into consciousness. He rolled onto his back and stretched, wincing at the multitudes of cracks and pops coming from his bones.

_Shit, what the hell did I do to myself last night?_

He peeled his eyes open, blinking furiously to clear the sleep from him, and took inventory of his surroundings. _I'm on the floor… why am I on the floor?_

The fire was nothing but a pile of smoldering embers, and there was a pile of disheveled bedding surrounding him. A memory flashed through his head: a strong, toned back rising and falling over him, a heat blazing through his body that didn't come from the fire raging on behind them, his throat scratchy from calling out the name of his lover through his release…

"Blaine!" he said aloud, and his arm reached out for the man who had lain beside him through the night, but he felt nothing but blankets, and they were cold. Blaine had been up for some time.

Kurt sat straight up on the makeshift bed on the floor and looked around frantically, calling Blaine's name again. "Blaine?" Again receiving no answer, he got up off the floor and headed toward the kitchen, hoping beyond hope that Blaine had just gotten hungry and had gone in search of food.

He rounded the corner and entered the room, but it was empty. Blaine wasn't there either. Kurt did, however, notice a piece of notebook paper folded in half and propped up on the countertop. Kurt rushed toward it and opened it.

**_Dear Kurt,_**

**_I'm sorry I'm not going to be here when you wake up. Please forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye – you looked so peaceful that I couldn't bear to disturb you._**

**_I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and noticed the power was back on. I was able to charge my phone enough to turn it on, and as soon as I did, my phone blew up with missed calls and text messages from my brother wondering where I was. He insisted on coming to find me right away, even though I told him that I was fine, but he was relentless, so I caved. He's on his way now with his Hummer and will help dig my car out of the ditch._**

**_The last couple of days have been the most amazing turn of events in my life. I am so grateful for you, Kurt. You saved me, in more ways than one, just by opening your door and allowing me into your home. I really want to see you again. I feel like we could really have something together, whether it be friendship… or more. Please, if you feel the same, give me a call. Any time._**

**_Thank you, Kurt. So much._**

**_Blaine_**

Kurt rushed to the last known location of his phone, his bedroom, and grabbed it, scrolling through his contacts to find Blaine's name.

But it wasn't there.

"FUCK!" Kurt screamed with tears in his eyes and anguish in his voice. He had neglected to get Blaine's phone number. He thought he had more time with the man; he knew he would've gotten it if there had been a proper goodbye involved.

He headed over to his computer, noting thankfully that the electricity and the internet connection were in working order. When the computer had booted, he pulled up Facebook, intending to search for him there. He typed in Blaine, but he blanked on his last name. Kurt wracked his brain, but he soon realized that Blaine's surname must've been another one of those things that didn't come up in conversation.

Typing in Blaine Michigan brought up too many entries, and Blaine Westerville brought up none at all. Switching to Google didn't help; there were millions of links in the search results, and he just did not know enough identifying information to help whittle that number down any.

After an hour of puttering around on the internet and coming up empty, he came to the sad conclusion that trying to find Blaine was pointless.

Kurt leaned back in his desk chair, entirely discouraged, with tear tracks streaking his cheeks. He thought of calling Rachel, but his best friend was likely to do nothing but spout out platitudes like "_If you love something_, _let it go. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be_."

Well, maybe that one had a little bit of merit. The love bit was a bit premature, but it was kind of fate that set Blaine on this exact path to his house, right? (Kurt pointedly ignored the voice of his rational side that insisted that Blaine only landed on his doorstep by coincidence, that Kurt was out in the boonies and his house was the only one nearby.) Maybe fate might intervene again and provide Kurt with the opportunity to find Blaine again.

With this thought in his head, Kurt felt calmer, resigning himself to the fact that from now on, he must wait for something to happen. He had done all he could do, short of placing an ad on the Missed Connections portion of Craigslist (Kurt shuddered – there were some truly creepy people that trolled that section).

Kurt allowed himself to wallow for a few minutes more and then got up from the chair, determined to accomplish something that day. He grabbed a comfortable, yet still reasonably fashionable, outfit out of his closet and put it on, but he decided that he didn't feel like spending a half hour on his hair for just himself, so he skipped that part of his routine and headed downstairs. Once he got to the living room, he gathered up the linens from the floor and brought them to his laundry room to wash them before he put them away again.

When he opened the lid of the washer, he found the clothing that Blaine had been wearing when he arrived. Over the events of the last two days, they had been entirely forgotten; Kurt had tossed Blaine's outfit in the washer after he had showered that first night, but he had been so distracted by his nerves, and later, by Blaine himself, that it had completely slipped his mind. This discovery didn't make Kurt sad like he thought it would, though. In fact, he felt quite the opposite – the abandoned clothing meant that Blaine must've been wearing the outfit Kurt had found for him the previous day, and that made him feel better, knowing that Blaine had something of Kurt's with him. And that he now had something of Blaine's.

Smiling for the first time that day, he went about the rest of his chores.

* * *

**A/N: Haters to the left.**

**Really, folks. Those of you who know me know that I prefer my Klaine together. Just... chill.**

**Also, please just ignore the fact that when you type "Blaine Westerville" on Facebook, there are a CRAPTON of RP profiles, and when you type "Blaine Michigan" on Facebook, there really aren't that many entries. This IS fiction, after all :)**_**  
**_


	10. Chapter 10

Posting earlier than usual 'cause I gotta work today. But this is all she wrote, folks. Enjoy!

* * *

Kurt was exhausted. Dead tired. He had just spent the day at his brother's home to celebrate a late Christmas with his family, and his nephews were crazy energetic after being cooped up in the house for several days. They had boundless energy where Kurt did not. They ran him ragged, and as much as he adored the boys, he was definitely _more_ than ready to head home and relax.

He was still nearly fifteen miles from home when a huge yawn overtook him. Kurt knew he would never make it the rest of the way home without some sort of pick me up, so he pulled into the lot of a small independent coffee shop that had been recommended to him by some friends some time ago but had never had a chance to try. He parked his Navigator in the back of the lot and trudged into the building.

"Welcome to The Lima Bean! May I take your order?" a far-too-cheerful-for-his-current-mood girl named Cindee asked.

"Oh, um yeah. Grande non-fat mocha, please, and a chocolate chip biscotti."

"Coming right up! Name?"

Kurt gave her his name and stood just outside the condiment bar to wait for his drink to be prepared. Since he was the only one waiting, Cindee didn't call out his name and just handed him the coffee with a smile. With a grateful smile to her in return, Kurt took the hot beverage and scanned the room, looking for a place to sit.

What he saw next made him do a double take. Sitting on a well-loved leather sofa, facing away from him, was a man with a full head of dark curls. Kurt would know that hair anywhere; he had spent enough time _that night_ running his hair through it and memorizing every strand. The man was on the phone, speaking softly. Kurt thought the voice sounded kind of sad, and his heart did a little backflip when he heard the man say, "No, I haven't heard from him yet. I thought we really had something."

Kurt approached him quietly and cautiously, almost as if he was trying to sneak up on a skittish animal. As much as he was excited to see Blaine, he figured bounding up to him and screaming "I FOUND YOU!" would probably not be the best idea.

Kurt walked up next to Blaine. Blaine still hadn't looked in his direction, but he didn't need to; Blaine's profile told him all he needed to know. This was definitely the man he had spent two of the best days of his life with.

Inhaling deeply and gathering all his courage, Kurt reached out a slender finger and tapped Blaine gently on the shoulder. "Excuse me," he said.

Blaine turned his head in Kurt's direction, and his jaw dropped in surprise. "I'll have to call you back," he said weakly to the person on the other end of the line, and his phone clattered to the table in front of them.

"Hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here. My name is Kurt." He stuck out his hand for Blaine to shake.

Blaine grasped Kurt's hand with both of his own, beaming with happiness.

"Blaine."


End file.
